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"Never you mind, honey, never you mind. Don't you git too peart. It's

a-comin'. Mind I tell you, it's a-comin'."

It did come, too. It was a Tuesday that we had that talk. Well, after dinner

Friday, we was laying around in the grass at the upper end of the ridge, and got

out of tobacco. I went to the cavern to get some, and found a rattlesnake in

there. I killed him, and curled him up on the foot of Jim's blanket, ever so

natural, thinking there'd be some fun when Jim found him there. "Well, by

night I forgot all about the snake, and when Jim flung himself down on the

blanket while I struck a light, ssssssssss

the snake's mate was there, ssssssssss

and bit him. ssssssssss

He jumped up yelling, and

the first thing the light showed ssssssssss

was the varmint curled up and ssssssssss

ready for another spring. I laid ssssssssss

him out in a second with a ssssssssss

stick, and Jim grabbed pap's ssssssssss

whisky jug and begun to pour ssssssssss

it down. ssssssssss

He was barefooted, and the

snake bit him right on the heel. ssssssssss

That all comes of my being ssssssssss

such a fool as to not remember ssssssssss

that wherever you leave a dead ssssssssss

snake its mate always comes ssssssssss

there and curls around it. Jim ssssssssss

told me to chop off the snake's ssssssssss

head and throw it away, and ssssssssss

then skin the body and roast a ssssssssss

eat it and said it would help ssssssssss

cure him. He made me take off the rattles and tie them around his wrist, too.

He said that that would help. Then I slid out quiet and throwed the snakes

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